The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1887-03-19
AFTER NIGHT THE DAWN.

The door of the country school
room closed behind the last noisy
pupil, and the young teacher was
,Hione. She bowed her head wearily
'npon her head, and looked around
me bare, comfortless room, with It's
Dard benches. curtainless windows,
and rusty, broken stove, with shud.
der Of disgust.
There were days--and this had
Been 0ne--when every fiber of her
tensitive being shrank from associa
iinn with the motley crowd of urch.
ms, and from contact with the dirty,
dog's-eared books, the grimy desks.
and dingy walls; but she never al
lowed these feelings 10 influence her ;
the duties of her position were con-
scientlousiy perfrmed, the more so,
perhaps. because they were so disa
greetlie.
S.ts had dismissed school an hour
earlier to-day, Ostensibly TO enable
her to correct the compositions han.
ded in for t0-morrnw's reading ;
really because she had seen Roy Carl
.Jn drive hy. and knew that h.
would return to ask her company
for All hours drive behind his hand
some bays and she had told herself
that she would -be,ause she must
refuse. hpnceforth aud forever, ali
things that he might ask of her; ana
she wished to have little time t.
strengthen herself, TO "haYe her dark
hour unseen." before she should shut
the gate ftrever between that world
Of ease and happiness, and. more
than all else. of Rry's love, and her
world of poYerty, loneliness and sor-
row.
She could not help hut love him.
he had laid 80 many drifts of sun
shine across her otherwise Swallowed
pathway, had been such a rock OF
refuge in her desert of friendlessnesS,
since she came, over year ago, to
this dreary little village to earn her
living by teaching.
She had chosen this vocation, not
hecause she liked it, for she did not =,
hut hpcause she felt that she was pre-
pared for il, and there seemed to bt.
no place for her elsewhere in the
ranks of workers.
She was not fitted TO do battle with
the grim fend of poverty; she had
until two years before, "fed on the
roses. and lain in the lilies Of life" "
Then came the death of her father,
followed almost Immediately by that
OF her mother, and she was left un.
prepared to face the world alone.
Her fathers wealth, which she
always supposed from their style OF
living to be ample, faded away be
fore the demands of his creditors
like snow in the spring-time. Her
high sense of honor would not allJw
her to hold back even the old home
stead and household furniture, so
dear from the associations clustering z
around it, and reserving but one or
two articles, she allowed the rest,
even her piano, to he sold.
Her summer friends drifted away
one by one. and she noted their de-
parture with scarcely a sigh over
their detection. Was it because she
realized of how little worth was
their evanescent friendship or had
her heurt, suffering deeper wound,
BECOME dead to The sInarting of these
lesser hurts?
Harry Vance had been her ideal OF
a gentleman. She had cherished for
him strong friendship, which. he.
fore her fathers death. had hidden
fair to ripen into love his attentions
had been very lOver-like. and thi-
small world in which the two moved
had already in imagination, coupled
their names together. when the clouds
Of misfortune shrouded her; and he,
with some trite sentences Of condo.
Ience upon his tongue, had stepped
nimbly out of tl.eir shadow, probably
cougratulating himself that he had
not gone 50 fur but what it was easy
to rece1e.,
She sighed, not for him, hut for hei
shattered ideal, when she saw that
he sought out a shallow, hrainle-s
favoriie of fortune, and sought by &
vigorous courlship To obtain her hand
in marriage, and possession of the
property he knew she held in heI
own right. and in that sigh exhaled
the last lingering perfume of the
friendship EIllce Gray had felt, moi
for Harry Vance. but for The mar
she had imagined him to be; and il
its place grew loathing and contempt
for Harry Vance, the fortune hunter
f.,N 4. 4 -. 4.